


how the mighty have fallen

by Edwardina



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Community: blindfold_spn, F/M, Ficlet, Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-20
Updated: 2010-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-17 05:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2298191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edwardina/pseuds/Edwardina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: One thing leads to another during their "last night on earth" drinking. While Cas gets the mechanics of sex, he's baffled by the idea of kissing (it doesn't directly bring gratification, so what's the point?). Jo schools him on the pleasures of making out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	how the mighty have fallen

**Author's Note:**

> Written for blindfold_spn and originally posted [here](http://community.livejournal.com/blindfold_spn/2172.html?thread=2913148#t2913148).

Eventually, everyone in his party passes out. A little drunk, perhaps, but probably mostly exhausted. Castiel sits outside with his hands on his knees, thinking. It's chilly and the tip of his nose gets cold. A strange sensation, but he doesn't mind it. He may not be entirely sober, but he's not sure. Time slips by, and the sky is starting to look purple in the east when the back door opens and someone finds him out there.

It's the girl, Jo.

"Whoa. You get locked out or something?"

"No."

He looks at her for a moment, taking in her large eyes. No-nonsense, like her mother's, but still young enough to be curious and open.

"Up awfully early, then."

"I didn't sleep."

"Huh. Me neither." She hangs by the door for a second, then drifts closer to him, looking out at where the sun will be rising in the next hour or so. "I never do, the night before."

Castiel isn't sure what she's talking about, exactly. It seems counter-intuitive for a human to not sleep when they are tired and have a mission ahead of them and have also consumed alcohol, which is the only way Dean and Sam _can_ sleep sometimes. But he's trying to get better at this talking-to-humans stuff. He finds they're each on different pages. It's a lot different than how it is with his brothers and sisters, or at least, how it always was. They shared whispers that were all the same.

He makes polite conversation. "So you did not sleep with Dean."

Jo laughs, just a light puff of breath that is visible for a fleeting second. "No."

"There's still time," Castiel offers. "He very much wants to sleep with you."

"Yeah, right. That's why he didn't call me once for two entire years."

Oh. She's moving to join him on the cooler he's been sitting on for hours. There isn't really room, but Castiel scoots to the very edge for her and sits in semi-discomfort as she slides onto it next to him. She wears jeans that are very tight, he notices. And she is not dressed for the damp chill in the air. Her arms are bare and she has gooseflesh on her skin but isn't noticing it the way he is.

"Well, yes. That _is_ why," says Castiel. "Amongst other complications he sees in his relationship with you."

"Wow, you're a talker when you got some Cuervo in you, huh?" she asks, looking at him with some amusement.

Is he?

"I've been thinking too much."

"About me and Dean?"

"Amongst other things, but yes, about you and Dean as well." She doesn't press him to speak further, just breathes there next to him, but he goes on anyway. Maybe it _is_ the Cuervo, because his mouth is just moving on its own now. "Here you are together, attracted to each other for many years, and it's your last night on Earth... yet you did not wind up in the backseat with him. I'm given to understand that this is a rarity for Dean."

"I don't want to do him just because I might die or he might die," Jo says. "I'd just be another notch on the bedpost. It wouldn't mean anything."

"It means at least two orgasms." She darts him a look he can't quite read when he says that. "It's only polite," he adds. "Basic sex etiquette."

"Oh, so you know all about sex, huh?"

Flashes of the woman Dean had wanted him to "hook up" with in that seedy, flashy sad place cloud his mind. "I know more than I wish I did."

"You done it, then? With a human."

"No." But his vessel was not inexperienced. He was a father, after all. Jimmy's memories are open to him. All he has to do is reach for them, pry the box of Jimmy's mind open, but he doesn't pry. He doesn't want to. Jimmy deserves all the peace Castiel can give him.

"You ever want to?"

"I have... never given it any thought."

That's not the truest thing he's ever said, and although Castiel tends to continually put Sam and Dean off simply by saying things that are true, this is an area that troubles him too much to try and explain. Ignorance of how it felt to be human and roaming this earth with others who also felt all of these complicated feelings truly was bliss, but now he's not so ignorant or blissful. He understands, to the same extent he understands all plants and other animals God made, why humans mate, but he doesn't need to. He is not human. He doesn't need to sleep, eat, drink, fornicate for pleasure or reproductive purposes. He is fallen, yes. Very fallen. But he is not Anna.

"Sounds to me like you're giving it plenty of thought," Jo says. She is a little merciless, but he can appreciate that. "How about kissing? You ever think about that?"

"No. My father gave sex with the intent that humans should find pleasure in it, as it is necessary for the propagation of your species. Sex is a gift. Kissing strikes me as unnecessary. And it looks silly."

It's then that Jo grabs at Castiel's necktie, and he lets her, as he knows she means him no harm. He allows her to pull at it so their shoulders are pressing close together. Hers feels small and bony next to his vessel's. For a moment he wonders if she needs warmth, and looks at her face in attempt to read it. The impressions he's given are of her hair, the color of rolling sun-bleached wheat fields, catching what little light is lurking on the back porch, and of her mouth nearing his. His eyes see that her lips are a color he finds very pretty, now that he's looking.

"I --" he starts, but his mind goes oddly blank. Her mouth is on his. She is kissing him. He can feel tender warmth and the almost teasing pressure of her lips pressing upon his, but it's an altogether new sensation that makes him pause, feeling nothing else. Not the cold. Not the damp. Not the cooler under his ass. Just the fact that their mouths are together for that moment, before she tilts her chin and takes the touch away again, looking up at him appraisingly.

Castiel is rendered speechless. It's possibly a mistake, not to say anything, because Jo smiles, eyelids dropping low, and Castiel can only stare at the bite of her teeth into her lower lip as she smoothly straddles his thighs, perching herself atop him and holding him tight by the necktie. She smells so human, like warm flesh and hot blood, body heat trapped in clothing, her breath still detectably sharp from the alcohol she was drinking earlier. Castiel does nothing to stop her from kissing his mouth again. It jars him somewhat, not making sense, the physicality of it too new for him to recognize and know and respond to, so he just sits there and feels it happen to him.

The second kiss lingers a little longer, then after the space of a breath, becomes a third, and Jo's mouth slides, catches his upper lip gently. It feels a little wet, but warm. Then she pulls back again, though her grip on his necktie goes nowhere.

"You gonna kiss me back?" she asks, and it's very intimate between them, her mouth still so close to his. This is the opposite of respecting personal space, but he only realizes that because Dean is so adamant about the invisible boundaries of it. It's more comfortable this way, he thinks.

"Should I?"

"Yeah. If you want."

 _She_ wants him to. Castiel is mildly concerned, somewhere in the back of his mind, but Jo Harvelle is nothing like the girl he disturbed before, so after a second of hesitation, he gives it a shot, grasping at her cool bare arms and putting their mouths back together with a lunge. He almost knocks her off his lap again, but after an unsteady sway, Jo leans forward, balancing them, and Castiel feels something in his chest constricting. His guts, too, suddenly feel strange. He pulls back, ending the kiss way more wetly and awkwardly than she would have, but she just grins at him, her breaths mingling with his between them.

"That was pretty good."

"Yes," he falters, because he has no idea if that's true or not. "I was impressed with your skills, too."

"Oh, I got mad skills, buddy," she breathes, and sticks her tongue in his mouth.

Castiel can feel his eyebrows going straight up his forehead, but now that this is happening, he's in. He's fallen, after all, and tonight is probably the last and only time he will ever kiss, or be kissed. He locks focus on her, closing his eyes and mimicking what he feels, pushing back at her with his own tongue and keeping her close. She barely allows him to find a rhythm with her, turning her head, and he finds himself growling in his throat, chasing where she leads and insisting she let him slide his tongue deep in. It's maddening, dizzying, and the sun turns the sky pink and gold and orange without him seeing it, they kiss for so long. 

They only stop because Bobby interrupts them, his wheels and feet halfway out the door and his expression looking angry.

"Well, now I've seen everything."

Jo laughs sheepishly, but Castiel jerks straight.

"You better get inside before your mother sees this," Bobby advises her flatly. "Or Dean."

"It's fine, Bobby," she says.

Much warmth leaves him when Jo does, and she leaves his tie crooked and gives him a sideways smile, mouth red and sweet like something from the garden of paradise, as she slinks past Bobby back indoors, disappearing from sight.

"We were just kissing," Castiel pipes, trying to be helpful.

"Well, I know that, ya idjit."

"She has... mad skills," he says.

"Stop. Talking," Bobby says.


End file.
